Evensong
by half agony and hope
Summary: "'You know,' Jane began, and she was surprised at the emotion in his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. 'You know I would trade places with you in a heartbeat. You know that, right? I would do anything—anything—to give you back your vision.'" Sequel to Eventide.


**AN: Here's the sequel to _Eventide._ Apparently I just could not stay away from this particular AU! Thanks for everyone who read/reviewed/followed the original. I hope this lives up to expectations. And just so you guys know, I'm planning on making a series of oneshots for stories in this universe, similar to what I'm doing for the _In Case_ series.**

 **The title comes from a late afternoon church service usually set to music. I'm familiar with Evensong services thanks to my time studying abroad in England. I've taken a bit of artistic liberty here and have assumed they also take place in America. Sorry for any inaccuracies!**

 **To the astute guest reviewer who asked a question about _Eventide_ , look to the second author's note at the end of this story for the answer :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist or Persuasion.**

* * *

Evensong

(noun): a service of evening prayers, psalms, and canticles conducted according to a set form

She walked blindly, one hand moving a metal cane in sweeping arcs in front of her and the other grasped tightly around Jane's forearm. A child's laughter echoed somewhere to her right. She drew in a deep breath, and the fragrance that greeted her smelled distinctly of lilac.

"You alright, Lisbon?" Jane said from beside her. She nodded.

It had been weeks since Lisbon had lost her vision. Weeks since Red John had torn her away from Jane. Weeks since her life had been completely ripped apart.

But Jane had found her.

And he hadn't left her side. Though at Jane's most obnoxious moments Lisbon seriously debated causing him bodily harm, she was grateful for his presence in her life. He understood like no one else what she was going through, and he always knew exactly what to say to calm her down when the darkness became too much.

Because it did. Far too often.

But on those occasions, the warmth of his arms and the cleverness of his hands always chased the darkness away.

He'd moved into her condo. She'd cleared a space in her closet for his suits.

For the first time since she'd known him, his clothing was no longer wrinkled.

The thought made her ridiculously happy, and she smiled to herself.

"Care to share with the rest of the class, Lisbon?" asked Jane teasingly. "What was that smile all about?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes. Being blind had done nothing for her ability to hide things from Jane.

Instead of answering him, Lisbon stopped walking. She looked up to where she thought his face would be. "What do you see?" she asked.

"Hmmm," said Jane, and she adjusted her line of vision, moving her eyes a couple of inches to the left as she honed in on his voice. "Lilacs are in full bloom, which I bet you've already figured out. They're in pretty much all the shades—from white to deep purple." He paused and threaded his fingers through hers. "There's the most adorable little tyke trying to climb up the slide on the playground in front of us. He has these chubby cheeks and the cutest giggle. Listen."

And she heard it—a shrieking laughter coming from several feet in front of them. Lisbon smiled again.

"There it is," said Jane triumphantly, and he reached out with his fingertips to touch her smile. She grinned even wider against his hand. He replaced his hand with his lips, moving slowly so that she could feel his breath before he touched her.

Lisbon pulled away, placing a last kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Are there swings?" she asked mischievously.

"Would I bring you to a park without swings?" said Jane, apparently wounded, and she could picture him rolling his eyes.

"Lead the way," said Lisbon, reaching for his forearm again. Jane laughed and began to walk forward.

When they reached the swing set, Jane put the chains for the swing in her hands and helped her sit. Instead of sitting down on the adjacent swing, he chose to stand by her, pushing her forward and pulling her back with gentle movements.

A bluebird chirped above them, and Lisbon moved her hand up to rest over Jane's.

"Thank you," she said.

Jane's hand tensed. "For what?"

"I know how difficult this has been for you," Lisbon said. "Watching me struggle. Thank you for sticking with me."

He didn't answer right away, but she felt him move to stand in front of her.

She looked up.

"You know," Jane began, and she was surprised at the emotion in his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. "You know I would trade places with you in a heartbeat. You know that, right?"

Her heart clenched at his words. "Jane…" she whispered.

He kneeled down in front of her and put his hands on her waist. She tried to look him in the eye but had a funny feeling she was staring at his nose instead.

"I would do anything— _anything—_ to give you back your vision."

She nodded. "I know, Jane. I know," she managed to get out. "But that's just not how it works."

He got up, pulling her along with him, and traded places with her, choosing instead to sit on the swing. He pulled her down to sit across his lap. She leaned her head against his so that her cheek rested against his temple.

"It's my pleasure—and my privilege," he said, in response to her original statement.

She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair.

* * *

 _"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you."_

It was night—though to Lisbon, night and day made no difference. She was curled up against Jane's side on her couch, a blanket tossed around both their shoulders, binding them together. Jane spoke in hushed tones, reading to her from _Persuasion_. He'd correctly selected it as her favorite of the Jane Austen novels.

Jane stopped reading suddenly. He turned his head to press a kiss to her forehead. "Are you alright, Lisbon?" he asked. "You're trembling."

Huh. Imagine that. She was indeed shaking in his arms, the tiniest of quivers.

She buried her face into the crook of his neck, and he set down the book, alarmed.

"Teresa," he said, wrapping both arms around her. "What's wrong?"

She reached up to put her hands on his face to guarantee she knew she would be addressing him and not his shoulder. She felt his brows furrow.

"I'm late," she whispered.

His brow knitted further together. "What?"

"I'm late," she repeated in the same, barely-there tone. "My period was supposed to start two weeks ago. It could be nothing. I've skipped them before when my body's been under stress. But with the timing…"

She trailed off, and she knew Jane was doing the math in his head.

"But we haven't…not since…"

Jane had been particularly adamant about slowing down the physical nature of their relationship. He'd worried—correctly so—that adding additional complication to Lisbon's life after her abduction and loss of vision would be too much for her to handle. She agreed for the most part, though there were days when she knew she pushed Jane's restraint about as near to breaking point as it could get.

"I know," she said. "But the timeline fits."

He was silent, and she could feel his eyes roving over her face. "Well," he said, and she knew he was struggling for words. "Looks like we need to make a trip to the drugstore."

He squeezed her hand tightly, and she squeezed back, and just for a moment, everything was fine.

* * *

An hour later, Lisbon was sitting on the bathroom counter and Jane was standing between her legs. He leaned his forehead down to touch hers, and she entwined their fingers.

After a few minutes, the alarm on Jane's phone went off, and she felt him shift to check the first of four different pregnancy tests.

Lisbon inhaled deeply.

" _Positive_ ," came Jane's whisper, and she felt like fainting. She reached out to grab his shoulder, flailing around for a few seconds before eventually locating it.

The alarm went off again, and Jane read the result of the second test. "Positive," he said again, and again, and again, after each of the tests revealed their results.

Lisbon began to shake.

Jane gathered her in his arms, and her arms and legs wrapped around him as she began to cry.

"Shhh, Lisbon, it's alright. We'll be fine," Jane whispered in her ear, and she wanted to stop sobbing but wasn't sure _how_.

It took her a few minutes to cry herself out. When she finally felt in control, she wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's not that I don't want this. With you. I just…I just…it's rough timing, that's all."

"I know," said Jane. He leaned down so that their noses touched. She knew he was smiling. "But, Lisbon, this is fantastic news. The _best_ news. Really, it is. I know it's scary, but please don't forget to be happy. We have our own little miracle now."

"Our own little miracle."

Lisbon nearly smiled, but her next thoughts dashed her happiness away.

She was still blind. Red John was still alive.

These things together meant there was a very good chance she'd never see her baby.

Lisbon leaned her head against Jane's shoulder and began crying again.

He held her.

* * *

The next day, Lisbon walked through the motions as if in a dream state. She knew Jane was similarly affected—they both were in a state of shock, of incomprehension.

This state only lifted when Jane suggested they go to a service at the church Lisbon frequented.

So as afternoon faded to evening, Lisbon found herself seated beside Jane at the end of the pew, listening to a service made entirely of choral arrangements. He put his arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into him, and with the music echoing around them it was easy to imagine that they could take on anything.

* * *

"Do I look any different?"

"What?"

It was nearing midnight, and they were lying next to each other in Lisbon's bed. Jane shifted beside her, and she felt his hand land on her hip.

"Do I look any different?"

Jane chuckled. "We have a while before you start to show."

"I know," Lisbon said. "But aren't people who are pregnant supposed to have some kind of glow or something?"

She could pinpoint the exact moment when he understood—she was asking him because she couldn't see for herself if she had a pregnancy glow. Possibly wouldn't ever be able to see it.

"You didn't when we first found out," said Jane quietly. "But after the service today…you looked radiant."

Lisbon smiled. "Yeah?"

Jane pulled her towards him. "Yeah."

The silence around them was comforting.

"I'm scared," Lisbon whispered into the dark.

"So am I."

"I'm glad you've done this before," she admitted. "It's reassuring."

He ran his fingers through her hair. "We have so much to look forward to, Lisbon. We're going to be so happy."

"It's difficult to be happy when you're terrified."

"I know," said Jane. "Believe me, I know." He kissed her. "What exactly are you terrified of?"

Lisbon swallowed. "Red John. That I won't ever be able to see our child."

"I won't let him touch you or our baby, Lisbon," said Jane, and he said it with such force, such emotion, that she believed him entirely. "I know it's hard, but don't worry about him. And as for the other thing, don't I keep telling you that there are other ways to see than just with your eyes?"

She nodded. "This just feels different. I won't have any kind of baseline. You know, like I had with you—I'd already seen you before I went blind. I won't have that luxury with our baby. And I won't be able to see things like ultrasounds."

"But you'll hear the heartbeat. And honestly you're not missing much on the ultrasounds, Lisbon. I couldn't see Charlotte on most of the ones done when Angela was pregnant. They just look like grainy snowstorms or sandstorms."

She laughed, well aware that he was lying to her. She grabbed his hand and moved it from her hip to her lower abdomen, and she rested her hand on top of his.

"We'll be alright, Lisbon—you, me, and the baby."

"I know." She sighed against him. "I know we will."

* * *

 **AN: A guest reviewer for _Eventide_ wanted to know how the CBI team knew which man was Red John. The first version of the story wasn't clear enough on this, so I added clarification in the version that's on my page now. But here's how they knew: Jane gathered from the video message that Red John was a double amputee, so they were looking for someone in the security feed of Jane's house who walked with a limp and had a false arm. Again, this wasn't clear in the first version, but it should be now :)**


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